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He glances at his watch. “This is a matter between you and your father, Lakyn. Not a matter we will discuss on the side of the street.”
I roll my eyes, stepping around him and sliding into the car. The door shuts immediately, and I can’t help but mumble under my breath. “They better not think they’re shipping me away again.”
“Give your parents some respect today, Lakyn. They’re going through a lot with everything that’s going on in town,” he mumbles, shifting into drive and pulling away from the curb.
I laugh, shaking my head. Sure. Respect. That’s just what they deserve.
“Lakyn,” my mom says before I’m fully out of the car. She rushes toward me with open arms, her heels clapping on the pavement. “I’ve been so worried about you.” She wraps me in a tight hug, and I close my eyes, inhaling her lavender scent.
“Missed you too, Mom,” I murmur against her perfect blonde curls.
“Let’s go inside, okay? There have been a lot of reporters here lately. Asking questions and such,” she clips, releasing me, grabbing onto my hand, and pulling me up the steps. She glances over her shoulder as we head inside, as if she anticipates there being more of them, just hovering around the corner.
I step in behind her, following her gaze and seeing George standing beside the car, a firm look on his face as he looks around the perimeter of the property.
No reporters, just the same old wealthy, ritzy neighborhood.
My mom closes the door, and the first thing I smell is freshly baked herb bread. I let out a hum as I toe off my Vans.
She stands in front of me, her hands folded at her waist as she watches me with a nervous smile. “It’s so sad what happened to that poor girl at the party. Did you happen to be there?”
I tense, my eyes raising to hers, narrowing slightly.
Is this why I’m here? Because they’re going to grill me, see if they can point yet another finger at me?
“I was there,” I say apprehensively.
Her face shutters slightly, the wall going up behind her eyes.
“Why don’t we head to the living area? Your father is in there waiting for us, and I know there were a few things he wanted to discuss.”
I drop my head, rolling my eyes as I follow her. My body grows tense, and the need to bolt runs strong, but I lock my knees, knowing I’ll need to get this out of the way, one way or another. “Sure thing.”
We head down our grand hallway, walking toward the living area. The sun shines through the windows, basking the room with a bright light. The expensive drapery lays creaseless against the large windows, expanding all the way up to the tall ceilings.
A white sofa sits in the middle of the room, with two chairs on either side. My father is sitting in one, a newspaper in hand, covering his face. I glance at the paper, seeing the words,“Slasher causes curfew in Hellcrest Heights.”
My eyes narrow at the headline, and my feet pause as we enter the room. My father lowers the paper, folding it in half and setting it in his lap.
“Lakyn. Were you held up?” he asks, folding his leg across the other.
My feet pick up again, and I walk across the room, plopping lazily onto the couch, just as he’s always hated.
“Not really.”
He cocks his head to the side, not the least bit amused. “Is there a problem you have, Lakyn?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “A problem? I have many, Father.”
My mother sits down beside me, her hand going to my knee. She gives it a squeeze, and it’s a bit too tight. I jerk out of her hold, giving her a look.
She looks at me apologetically. “Lakyn, we didn’t call you here to fight, honey. We’re just worried about you. About what’s going on around you.”
“And I’m curious, Lakyn. These deaths didn’t start happening until you came back home. The first one started before you left. I have to say, it does look a little suspicious. Did you have anything to do with this?”
Cutting straight to the chase, I see.
Though it shouldn’t shock me, my mouth drops open. Of course, he wants to blame me for their murders.Of course. I move to stand, but my mother plants her hand on my shoulder, keeping me seated.
